


Of Shooting Stars and Fallen Angels

by orphan_account



Series: SPN Writing Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Too often he found himself burdened with worry, apprehension, stress. His dreams – so new and unfamiliar – were filled with the suffocating feeling of his regret and guilt, and most nights he woke with a gasp, a cry on his lips and sweat on his brow. Fatigue seemed to be his perpetual state of being, anymore.</p>
<p>But here, with Dean and the hum of the car, he felt safe."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Shooting Stars and Fallen Angels

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a pinch hit for the November 2015 "travel"-themed challenge for the [SPN Writing Challenge](http://spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com). The prompt was "car." 
> 
> There are rumors going around about something that's coming up in season 11 and it makes me very unhappy, so I wrote something to make myself feel a little better. I just want my baby cinnamon roll to be loved, okay.

The words on the page were beginning to blur in front of him, and there was a sting in the back of his eyes. Castiel blinked, inhaling deeply as he sat up from his hunch over the thick text on… he couldn’t even remember what it was he’d been reading about. Exhaling a sigh, he closed the book and set it aside, running his hands over his face. He was so _tired._

Footsteps sounded down the hall of the bunker, and he gazed up at Dean as he walked into the library. Dean gave him a once-over, his mouth pulling down into a disapproving frown, eyes full of concern.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he suggested, in that way that Castiel had learned meant _you don’t actually have a choice; you need this._

Castiel inhaled again, counted to three. _So tired._

“Alright.”

* * *

 

The hum of the Impala’s engine thrummed through his skin, and Castiel leaned his head against the window. Familiar rifts from the tape Dean stuck in filled the silence between them, and he listened to Dean’s soft whiskey voice sing along under his breath. His shoulders relaxed, and he stared out the window, watching the horizon pass alongside them.

Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes glancing over, lingering for a heartbeat, two, before sliding back to the road. It happened like clockwork, and Castiel found comfort in the idiosyncrasy, letting the warmth radiating from Dean soothe him into a light sleep.

Too often he found himself burdened with worry, apprehension, stress. His dreams – so new and unfamiliar – were filled with the suffocating feeling of his regret and guilt, and most nights he woke with a gasp, a cry on his lips and sweat on his brow. Fatigue seemed to be his perpetual state of being, anymore.

But here, with Dean and the hum of the car, he felt safe.

He was safe.

* * *

 

A gentle hand on his arm pulled Castiel from his light sleep, and Castiel followed Dean out of the car to the field he’d parked them in. Dean jumped onto the hood, and Castiel slid up beside him, leaning back against the windshield and looking up. The sky was an inky midnight blue, and Castiel gazed at it with longing and nostalgia. Like diamonds, the stars twinkled faintly.

_Brothers and sisters, I’m so sorry._

“Look at that, Cas,” Dean murmured, pointing, and Castiel followed his arm. In the distance, a star shot across the sky, lit up in a burst of flaring light before fading away again.

“You think that was one of you?” Dean asked, dropping his hand. Castiel kept his eyes on the sky. “Tired of being a cog in the machine, believing in a dad that doesn’t care anymore?”

“No,” Castiel responded quietly, eyes cast down to his hands in his lap. “There’s none of us left to fall. Not after…” He swallowed, and the sting behind his eyes was back. “Not after what I’ve done.”

“Hey.”

His fists clenched as Dean slid across the hood, pressing against Castiel’s side and wrapping and arm around his shoulders. Castiel let himself lean into Dean, turning his head to bury it in Dean’s neck.

“You did what you thought would help, and you got screwed over,” Dean said, rubbing his hand up and down Castiel’s arm. “It’s not your fault, Cas. You couldn’t have known.”

“That doesn’t excuse it,” he protested, but he didn’t have the energy to fight. “My siblings have been taken from the only home they’ve ever known because of _me,_ Dean, and I…”

“You can’t carry the blame alone, Cas.”

Castiel pulled back to look up at Dean with a fond exasperation. “Coming from you.”

They fell silent, and Castiel leaned his head back against Dean, inhaling the cinnamon-whiskey scent that clung to him. He felt soft, barely-there brushes of lips against his temple as they continued to stare up at the stars, the sun long below the horizon behind them.

“We do the best we can with the shit we get dealt,” Dean said sometime later. “Because it’s all we _can_ do. And no one gets more shit dealt to them than you, Cas, and no one tries as hard as you do.”

And, if only for a little while, Castiel let himself believe it, too.

* * *

 

The clock on his bedside table read just past two in the morning when Castiel walked into his room in the bunker, shrugging out of his coat and kicking out of his shoes. His limbs were heavy with weariness, and his eyes were lidded as he shuffled over to his bed. Sitting on the edge, he sighed as he sunk into the mattress. “Memory foam” Dean had called it – _it remembers you, Cas._ He smiled, laying down and curling onto his side.

The door opened, and Castiel looked down to the end of the bed to see Dean looking into the room.

“You okay, Cas?”

Castiel gave him a small smile. “I’ll be alright, Dean. Thank you.” And he knew Dean knew he wasn’t just thanking him for checking in on him. _Thank you for tonight. Thank you for believing in me when I can’t seem to find faith in myself._

“Alright, well.” Dean coughed, clearing his throat and looking slightly embarrassed, though Castiel couldn’t figure out why. “I’m right next door if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.”

Castiel paused, letting the silence between them stretch, before he said, timidly, “Would you…” He bit his lip, then finished, “stay with me? Until I fall asleep? I… I’m having trouble, I suppose.”

Dean nodded and came into the room, closing the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and took off his over shirt before lying on the bed behind Castiel. Castiel turned over, watching Dean watch him, and then hesitantly moved to lay his head against Dean’s shoulder again.

When Dean’s arm came behind him to pull him closer, Castiel relaxed, sinking into the mattress and into Dean with a sigh.

“Night, Cas,” Dean murmured into his hair, and Castiel buried his face in Dean’s chest.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

For the first time since he became human, Castiel’s dreams were peaceful.

He was safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [leviathncas](http://leviathncas.tumblr.com)


End file.
